


Fluffy Fear

by Meatball42



Series: Fuzzy Comfort [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Abuse, Cat/Human Hybrids, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, exhausted and terrified catboys, fluff in the literal sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: Tony won a catperson in a poker game. This isn't what he was expecting.





	Fluffy Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/gifts).

> This is a prequel to the incredible gift I was gifted by myself during Birthday Bash. I want to thank me for such excellent inspiration, and for coming up with such a great prompt in this exchange.

Tony’s heart throbbed painfully as the catperson under the couch let out another quiet, pained mew.

“Come on, buddy. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’m not like that sonovabitch who owned you before. I want to help.”

Reflective gray eyes flickered between Tony and the dish of food that he’d set on the opposite side of the couch. Whether the catperson decided to come to Tony for cuddles, or go toward the food, he didn’t care. Clearly, they needed both.

He kept up a soothing patter and didn’t move from his spot two feet away from the couch. He was lying on his side with one hand just underneath the couch, careful not to focus his eyes on the catperson’s for long. The last thing Tony wanted to do was challenge or intimidate the catperson, who had clearly already been through so much.

The delivery had come while Tony was at work. He’d come back to his condo to find a kennel abandoned in front of his door, where just anyone could have come by and snatched it up. Well, they could’ve if Tony hadn’t had a floor to himself, but the point stood.

He’d opened his door and brought the kennel inside just enough to close it before opening the door to let the catperson out. If he’d had any forethought, he’d have checked inside first, but as it was, a streak flew out of the kennel and directly under the couch. Tony caught a glimpse of frightened, fluffed-up charcoal-colored fur and nothing else.

The catperson hadn’t come out from under the couch for two hours.

One angry call with the catperson’s former owner later, Tony had cleared his schedule for the week. He knew that his new charge needed him much more than the R&D crew.

Tony had almost zoned out, his mouth running on without need for oversight, when he noticed that the catboy—Bucky, apparently—had slipped over to the food dish and was eating in fast, tiny bites. Gray eyes, nearly hidden by long, unkempt hair, were intermittently flickering over Tony.

Tony shifted up onto his elbow and Bucky froze mid-chew.

“You’re okay,” Tony murmured, not moving and not staring at Bucky’s eyes. “Go ahead. It’s all yours.”

Bucky started eating again, but he was very tense, and his eyes never left Tony.

When the plate was clear, he laid down in front of it, stretching slightly. His claws dug into Tony’s rug, then quickly aborted, and he flashed a frightened look at Tony.

“It’s okay,” Tony said again. “If I wasn’t ready for some damage to my furniture, I wouldn’t have you in here.”

Suspicion entered those gray eyes, but a moment later, the catboy got up, on his hands and back legs, at least. He came around the couch, slowly and warily.

Tony didn’t move, even when Bucky was less than a foot away. The catboy’s posture was wary, bordering on terrified, but he inched closed and closer until his head was next to Tony’s hand, resting gently on the rug.

“Do you want pets?” Tony asked. Even with the seemingly obvious position, there were tremors going through Bucky’s body, and Tony wasn’t going to touch him without being sure it was what he wanted.

Bucky’s ears twitched, but stayed back in a defensive posture. He back arched a little bit more, pressing his chest to the ground submissively, and his fluffy tail was tucked tightly between his legs.

The shaking continued.

Tony shifted his weight slightly and Bucky flinched.

“I’m not going to touch you,” he promised. “Not unless it’s what you really want. I don’t want to hurt you, and it doesn’t look like you’re really in the mood for touch.”

He caught a sudden glimpse of stormy eyes, and then Bucky was disappearing under the couch.

“Okay, yes,” Tony agreed, as though Bucky had spoken. “Under the couch is a safe place. If you feel better under the couch, definitely be there. I’m going to get up though, because my old bones can’t stay on the floor for too long.”

He stood up, slowly, and leaned a little to stretch out his legs and back. He wasn’t a wizened old geezer yet, but he could definitely feel the hours he’d spent on the plush rug.

“It’s just about bedtime for me,” he narrated. “I’m gonna take a shower, set you out some more food, and go to bed. You can explore if you want. You’ve got the run of the floor, nowhere is off limits. I’d ask you not to come into the bathroom while I’m using it.”

He waited, hoping, but there was no response to the little bit of humor.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bucky,” he said quietly.

Tony did just as he said: he set out another plate of food for Bucky, took a shower, and went to sleep. Bucky didn’t come out from under the couch, and he didn’t see a hair of him or hear a single meow.

When Tony woke up the next morning, though, there were cat hairs on his pillow. He thought that, maybe, they were going to be okay.


End file.
